bolster them, depending on what was needed to create a thriving magical society. I could learn a great deal from him, even if I just applied it to the current protectors of Ivy House. Getting Niamh and Mr. Tom to stop bickering would take all of what Austin knew, I was pretty sure.
I was lucky to have him for leadership, Niamh for battle strategy, Edgar for hunting lessons (I’d insisted he stick to theory) and reading that book’s instructions, and Mr. Tom for managing the house (and me) and teaching me close combat. That was a great start, but I still needed someone who knew something, anything about the practical application of my magic. Someone who could guide me to use it in increments—like the people who’d grown up with magic had learned to use their abilities. And I needed a safe place in which to learn, away from a bar full of people I, thankfully, hadn’t harmed this time, because in the future I might not get so lucky.
I’d always been a quick study. I was confident that with a little more insight and hands-on instruction, I could really roll with this thing. I would really roll with it. I’d stomp on the Garys of the world, I’d wear disco dresses with confidence, and I’d handle my magic like a champ.
Like I said, goals.
A blast of magic concussed the air and flowed out of me like a wave, rolling out of the bar and across the town and beyond, spreading out like the magical force from earlier. This one felt a little different, but I knew it was doing the same as the last. Summoning aid.
“Ah, Christ, she’s after doin’ it again.” Niamh shook her head. “Don’t tell Earl, or he’ll moan something awful.”
“He would’ve felt that,” Austin said, his expression grim.
Those in the pool room started returning to the bar. At least I’d managed that bit.
“Yeah, I s’pose,” Niamh replied. “Austin Steele, soon we’re going to get visitors. Lord only knows what kind.” She tapped her empty glass. “Get me a whiskey, will ya? I’m goin’ta get pissed. No need to face the future sober.”
6
Austin sat in his Jeep at the curb in front of Ivy House, staring straight ahead with his hands on the wheel, his knuckles white. He’d gotten as far as shutting off the engine.
He’d sworn he would never answer a magical summons from this house.
And there’d been many of them since the house had claimed him as one of its protectors. He’d ignored every single one. It didn’t matter how strong they were: if they were beating, or throbbing, or pulsing deeply within him, he’d shouldered his resolve and resisted the pull.
Until now, a week after Jess had shown up at his bar to meet the world’s worst online date.
He stared down the street as the sunlight seeped from the sky. No snow covered the ground, but the dropping temperatures suggested a light dusting wasn’t far off. No tourists sauntered down the sidewalk toward the old, Gothic-style house. Few people visited at this time of year, and those who did would prefer to drink inside than take walks in the cold.
Usually Niamh would still be manning her rocking chair on her porch, her pile of stones orderly and within arm’s reach. That woman had great aim and good distance. The police had shown up dozens, maybe hundreds, of times to warn her away from throwing rocks at people…
It was a wonder they never arrested her for it, although she typically only targeted curious tourists (Earl being the exception). Most of the trouble in this town came from visitors, or at least the trouble the human police were expected to fix, so maybe the officers were grateful to her for scaring off strangers. Hard to say.
Niamh’s absence meant she was otherwise occupied. Austin had come from the bar and her usual seat was empty. She didn’t shop, preferring to pay people to deliver groceries, therefore she must be at Ivy House.
Had she gotten the normal command, the one he was so good at ignoring, or had hers been a plea, too? A desperate need for help.
Begging.
He let out a breath, willing himself to start up his Jeep and head out. He was nearly positive the summons hadn’t come from Jess, but the change in potency, and the genuine worry he could feel riding the wave…
He let out an agonized breath.
It had sunk down deeply and grabbed the roots of him.